Statik Selektah, Wais P, Sean Price, Tek - Go Gettas lyrics
[Statik Selektah, Wais P, Sean Price, Tek - Go Gettas lyrics]
Groundkeepers, let's creep yeah
Son of a come on
Frozen face look at my wrist
Where the magic at
Pimp's frost just fucked up
It's where the ratchets at
On the track is where it happened
At the Blade
Bitches seranade my escapades outta Escalades
The nannies and Range Rover, high prince
Watch they swinging in the hood
That bitch nigga got the hot heads
Look at my iris
Pupils bloodshot like a drunk Iris
So far doing shots with the pilot
30 000 feet reading 'bout the sky mall
But all I want is the asian
Flight attendant on my balls
Kaleidoscope diamonds, rollercoaster whips
Soon as you hit the bar, I'm at your table
Toasting with your bitch
Shoulda bought a bottle and just take a loss
Come around me with a hot head
I turn it into hot sauce
Blow your brains out your skull nigga
Memory loss
Wise Peter, fucking pimp, truly yours
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta
Aargh, keep the door
Great grimy tooth and nail serve me
Play the ukelele while I'm doing rails
Bowl of escargot, oh I'm doimg snails
Used to sell crack
Now I'm rapping and doing well
The best rapper out now
Next step is get capped and
Getting shot like Al-P
I'm not your mother fucking friend fam
Fuck the keeky keeky boom boom
When the flim flam?
I'm hot as creepers, creep the fho fho
I been bad let's get physical
Pull the pistol from my gym bag
You deserve to have felons
Carving up your face
Straight firm it down put gel in
This that gmr shit
Breathe these balls you need CPR bitch
The go gettas Sean
Niggas know better say low sweater on
(keep it on)
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta
Sing your songs of survival
A tower, over peons like the Eiffel triffle
Niggas I make 'em starve
Your fur's too short to cop from the guard
(keep it on) no consignment, all cod
The price is the price that's my tag
It gets better, if you're cop heavy
My old G's been slinging
Dope since rocksteady
Aaah, I got the glow of the golden child
C sick, Queens
Nigga should have been the poster child
Get caught up in my current
Y'all niggas ain't swimmers
It's a major difference between
Me and beginners
Competitive 6 thrower, the G-spots know me
Your MCM call me big homie
15 hundred for the Gucci attire
If the bag is right I make your hot shit fire
(smoke)
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta
Son of a come on
Frozen face look at my wrist
Where the magic at
Pimp's frost just fucked up
It's where the ratchets at
On the track is where it happened
At the Blade
Bitches seranade my escapades outta Escalades
The nannies and Range Rover, high prince
Watch they swinging in the hood
That bitch nigga got the hot heads
Look at my iris
Pupils bloodshot like a drunk Iris
So far doing shots with the pilot
30 000 feet reading 'bout the sky mall
But all I want is the asian
Flight attendant on my balls
Kaleidoscope diamonds, rollercoaster whips
Soon as you hit the bar, I'm at your table
Toasting with your bitch
Shoulda bought a bottle and just take a loss
Come around me with a hot head
I turn it into hot sauce
Blow your brains out your skull nigga
Memory loss
Wise Peter, fucking pimp, truly yours
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta
Aargh, keep the door
Great grimy tooth and nail serve me
Play the ukelele while I'm doing rails
Bowl of escargot, oh I'm doimg snails
Used to sell crack
Now I'm rapping and doing well
The best rapper out now
Next step is get capped and
Getting shot like Al-P
I'm not your mother fucking friend fam
Fuck the keeky keeky boom boom
When the flim flam?
I'm hot as creepers, creep the fho fho
I been bad let's get physical
Pull the pistol from my gym bag
You deserve to have felons
Carving up your face
Straight firm it down put gel in
This that gmr shit
Breathe these balls you need CPR bitch
The go gettas Sean
Niggas know better say low sweater on
(keep it on)
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta
Sing your songs of survival
A tower, over peons like the Eiffel triffle
Niggas I make 'em starve
Your fur's too short to cop from the guard
(keep it on) no consignment, all cod
The price is the price that's my tag
It gets better, if you're cop heavy
My old G's been slinging
Dope since rocksteady
Aaah, I got the glow of the golden child
C sick, Queens
Nigga should have been the poster child
Get caught up in my current
Y'all niggas ain't swimmers
It's a major difference between
Me and beginners
Competitive 6 thrower, the G-spots know me
Your MCM call me big homie
15 hundred for the Gucci attire
If the bag is right I make your hot shit fire
(smoke)
Bandana over the money stack
Bitch get my paper, coming running back
(running back)
Look at little shorty with the hundred pack
He got dreams of sipping lean in the Cadillac
Had to tell him, living life as a felon
Ain't all that it seemed to be
It's even better pendants on your chain
Diamonds in your favourite letters
Guns under the seat, the life of a go getta